dear you

Dear You,

I was wondering maybe one day we meet again

And you come out of your way and say hello

I will obviously be lost in your eyes, I know, I will

So it’s gotta be you who’s got to break the ice

Talk about anything! Say the weather?

Or about how bright the moon was to shine in some time

Cause’ my Sun was, no wait, has always been you and for some reasons I have been living in the dark since a while

I will start to cry, so sure I will

But then I know we will be in public and you might have brought a company

So I will negotiate it for a lump in my throat

Will we stop by the stationery and get a pen?

Maybe we can Share our numbers again

Just to wash them off our palms in the rain

Or maybe the sweat? Well yea I would be too nervous to explain

I will go home and type your name in the search bar, stalk you down

I have got children of my own but then God! We are once again in the same town!

I still miss you! I hope it’s not a sin right now

I know, the man whom I kissed at the church will forgive me somehow

He has been giving me all his love without a single demand

But I had already poured all of mine into this person with my number on his hand

I will obviously ask you to come over, if only I have the strength

I could introduce you to my baby son and my daughter, she is ten!

They don’t look like you, God I wish they could!

If only that day we had talked that shit out, maybe they would

It’s a small town, my home will be somewhere around the corner, I am sure

But then what if you are busy like always

What if you have plans of your own

My hands will tremble when to say goodbye, I know

So maybe I will just close my eyes and you can run?

Please run away.

I will count till ten and then believe that what I saw was just a dream

I will pick my stuff and go home to let out that lump

You will have gone by that time and I will go to bed taking my sleeping pills

Try to sleep with your number half-written, half erased by the sweat dripping down my fingertips

It doesn’t even matter

I memorized it as soon as it flew out from your lips.

But since all of it comes down to be just a dream, I will pray to God that I see one like this again

And again, for the rest of my life.

Yours,

Me.

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यें हसीन तारें

आज तो लिखना ही था मुझे
तारें तो कबके ज़मी पर आ चुके थे
पर खुली आँखों से भी ना देख सकी थी उनको
अजीब सी रौशनी थी उनकी
समझ ना थी उस वक्त जिसकी।

पर जब पलको को झपकने से दो पल की छुट्टी दी
तो उस हलके अंधेरे ने आकर धी–रे से बताया
की वो रौशनी तो मन की है
और ये वाली जो है वो इन खुली आँखों को कुछ कम दिखाई देती है।

बस फिर!
ढेड़ गुंठ्ठे के घर मे उस रोज़ से शाम को बिना दिया-बत्ती के ही उजाला होने लगा।
या खुदा!

इतने सारे तारे मेरी ही ज़मीन पर थे और मैं आसमान में अनजानों को गिनती रही!

And our small house appears bigger to me, even though he still complains a little ;)

Where one look in the eyes

Can move the grounds below us

When one moment of contact

Gives a lifetime of strength

When one smile on each other’s face can make us forget

Every other dark thing in the world and see only the light

In each other’s eyes

Now when we know that we are in love

The grass seems greener on our own side

And that small house appears bigger to me, even though he still complains a little

But we both consider it more spacious than those palaces

Which people we ‘knew’ now own.

Those people who never believed us

Who said we were too different to be together

Those who ran behind their perfect matches

Well everything that seems perfect is not beautiful

And everything that’s amazing is not perfect

We find our homes in each other!

Moreover, we live where we stay

Well for the others,

They keep moving towards shinier things, even losing each other in between

For a while, or so

Maybe coming back together in the end

They say, “all’s well that ends well”

But we people, we believe in the journey that we make together

Because we can’t pass a day without that ‘ordinary’ dinner of ours, as they frame it

At times burnt! At times over salty

But to us, tastes just fine

Since it’s made up of care and stinks of love.

And if you ask me about the precious items I own?

His first gift to me was a lead pencil and since then I have kept it safely in my closet.

So close to me,

I didn’t even use it; afraid the lead might get over or maybe just break you know?

As if it wasn’t lead, as if it was Gold

We didn’t even realize and love turned us into Alchemists!

Happy New Year 2017! (post number 101! : )

Maybe one day someone will like you for that little strand of hair coming out from the back of your neck, smaller than the other strands, little curled up and unnoticed by the normal folk.

That one day from when you are appreciated for your hidden colors that you only showcased in a locked room.

When someone happily becomes the mirror in front of which you can carelessly dance!

Maybe one day someone happens to love you for the things in you that other people found ugly and disgusting, much less you yourself!

Maybe that day is in the coming year?

Happy new year 2017 to my readers!

Let us all love more, live more, expect less, worry less and give more!

Good night! 🙂

‘One Has To Admire His Ability As A Poet’ by Kevin Higgins

loved this one.

Poethead; a poetry site

One Has To Admire His Ability As A Poet

“I was struck by … his courage in speaking out to defend the memory of Charles Haughey”
Vincent Woods, RTE website

To defend the memory of Boris Yeltsin’s
vodka bottle. To take money from both the late Benito
Mussolini and, when pragmatism demanded it, those
who spat on him when he was safely
hanging upside down outside an Esso station.
To put in the proper context of realpolitik
as practised in parts of County Wexford
the late Father Fortune’s harem of boys.
To share a Ouija board with President Duvalier
while supping rum from the skull of an infant
who was always going to come to this
because, in the words of W.H.Auden,
‘poetry makes fuck-all difference’.
To share a roast leg with General Amin
and not mind which of his enemies was being eaten.
To recite even his longer poems

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